Time Can't Heal All Wounds
by justyouraveragenikki
Summary: It's been years since it happened. But after all this time, they're never really over it. Future AU, no good ending.
He bolted upright, panting. Dampness clung to his hair, dripping off and falling onto the grey blanket tangled between his legs, creating dark grey patches.

Lifting up his hands to his face, he dropped back down onto bed, bare chest still heaving. And there he lay for what could have been seconds, minutes, hours. Who knows. Who cares. Slowly, he turned to his side, eyes looking at but not seeing the empty beer cans littering his floor.

Like a sudden clap of thunder on a clear night, his phone buzzed and lit up, breaking the comfortable silence and darkness of his room. A message. Been a while since he received one of those.

With effort, he reached over and took ahold of his phone, seeing a notification from Okita. Ah yes, Okita. That was the sadistic brat, right? He slid open the notification to expand the message.

 _Sougo: Hijikata-san, are we still meeting later at that snack house?_

Hijikata frowned. He vaguely recalled making plans with Okita, yet he didn't. He weighed his choices. It must have been weeks since he last left his apartment. He was running out of alcohol.

 _HIjikata: Sure. In fifteen min?_

 _Sougo: Yeah, alright._

He cringed at the formality in the messages. They once had been very laid back. Or maybe they hadn't. He couldn't remember for sure.

Hijikata, with much effort, forced himself up, before trudging over to his pathetic excuse of a kitchen and filling a dirty, used cup with tap water. Barely even noticing the stacked mess of plates still in his sink and the stink of rotten food, Hijikata gulped down the water, the cool liquid burning his throat.

He picked up a yukata off the ground and shrugged it on, before strapping against his waist a sword sheerly out of habit. And with that, he slipped on sandals and left his apartment, leaving his front door wide open.

* * *

Trudging down the streets solely out of muscle memory and instinct, Hijikata ignored the stares. He felt around for a cigarette and frowned when he couldn't find one. Damn. Forgot it.

He finally stepped out in front of a bar, looking up at the sign 'Otose's Snack House'. Hijikata glanced up at the house above it and wondered if that no-good permhead and his kids still lived there. Probably not. He couldn't care less to check.

"Hijikata-san."

He turned around and saw Okita standing there, no trace of any relief or happiness at meeting his old comrade imminent from his mien. Okita looked exactly as he had last remembered; slightly long sandy hair, albeit a bit scruffier now, piercing red eyes, and a bored, slouched posture. Similar to Hijikata, he donned a yukata as well, but a red one, starkly contrasting with Hijikata's dark grey one.

"Let's go in?" Okita suggested, and Hijikata nodded, following the younger man.

They both sat down at the bar stool and there they both stayed, not talking to each other as they each ordered sake. The uncomfortable silence would have once been choking, but Hijikata couldn't find it in him to be bothered anymore.

"You grew a beard, Hijikata-san?" Ah, Okita fired the first sentence of the night.

Hijikata absentmindedly reached a hand up to touch his beard, not having realised it was there. "Just forgot to shave."

Silence yet again. Hijikata shot a tentative glance at his ex-subordinate, before deciding to keep the conversation going. "So what are you doing now?"

"Something similar to a mercenary, I guess. People hire me to help assassinate, or steal, or maybe just scare a cheating husband." Hijikata felt Okita's gaze reach him. "You?"

"I…" Hijikata struggled to find something to say, but just that moment, the bartender, whom was unfortunately not Otose, served the sake. Okita nodded a brief thanks while Hijikata just sat, relieved of being spared from the question.

Trying to lighten the situation, Hijikata forced a smile and jokingly asked, "Have a girlfriend?"

Okita's cheeks flushed a bit; something that would have never happened years ago. "No, not right now." Hijikata nodded in understanding. "Although, I did for a short time go out with Kagura." The ex-vice commander raised an eyebrow in surprise. That wasn't expected. But Okita continued, "It wasn't very serious though. And didn't last long. You can tell why."

They both took sips of their sake. Hijikata looked down and realised his sake dish was empty. So he asked for another.

"I visited danna earlier this morning," Okita began. Hijikata vaguely recalled Okita calling Gintoki 'danna'. "Prison obviously isn't that comfortable, but he seems fine." Oh. Prison. That's where the permhead went. He wondered what he did to end up there, but at the same time, he didn't really.

Okita let out an empty laugh, "If this was back in the old days, I would have had your sake poisoned by now. You'd be yelling something annoying at me, then I'd aim and fire a bazooka at you."

Hijikata let a smile crack at the corner of his lips. Those days seem so far away, almost as though they had never actually happened. Just a figment of his subconscious, a parcel of his dreams. "Didn't think I'd ever say this, but those really annoying attacks and attempts of harassments from you... ," Hijikata flashed a small, sad smile at his ex-assailant, "They were undeniably rather fun."

"Hijikata-san, you've gotten soppy over the years," Okita berated, but he returned the same smile back at Hijikata.

Another dish of sake arrived, and Hijikata happily took another gulp of it. "Do you know what happened to the others? Like…" Hijikata thought deeply, trying to remember a few names, "Yamazaki… and…" He stopped himself, realising no one else came to mind.

Okita put down his sake and took a deep breath, "I heard they tried making their own police force, something like the Shinsengumi. But," Okita hesitated before finally continuing, "Without Kondou-san… it'll never really work."

They both sat in silence, an air of solemness falling over the duo.

It was Okita who first spoke up, "Do you miss Kondou-san?"

Hijikata hesitated, thinking carefully, before relenting and spilling out, "Yeah. Sometimes. I wait for my feelings to get numb but on some days I," He took a deep breath, "I just let the pain back in. I don't think I'll ever get over it. I can't bring myself to do so."

He looked over at Okita and saw him absentmindedly swishing his dish of sake, eyes unfocused and staring off into realms unknown. "Sometimes I close my eyes, and I just see his execution. Right there in front of me, exactly as it happened," Okita muttered. "Guess we're never really gonna be able to escape from those days, huh?" The younger man took a long sip of his drink.

"It's been years. And still no one's really over it."

"Out of all us rotten scum, Kondou-san was the only one who actually deserved a long, happy life," Sougo sighed, voice soft and forlorn.

Okita finished his dish of sake and looked over at Hijikata's empty one too. "Hey, old man, more sake for the both of us," He called out to the bartender.

They both watched as the man behind the bar introduced another bottle of the alcohol and filled their dishes.

"Well, let's just drink for now," Okita concluded, raising his dish towards Hijikata, who returned the action, the ceramic dishes clinking as though they had a celebration to announce. They both brought the sake to their mouths and downed them in one shot.

* * *

Hijikata stood up, dusting off his yukata as though it made a difference to the already-filthy fabric. "Well, I'll see you around, Okita."

The younger man winced a little. "Sougo," He corrected.

"Yeah, sure," Hijikata mumbled.

"Meet soon?" Okita asked.

"Sure. Let's do that," Hijikata smiled, before turning and leaving the bar. He took out his phone and opened up his contacts. He scrolled through - there were not many - and stopped at the contact name 'Sougo'. He opened the contact and tapped the trash can graphic at the top right. He then selected 'Confirm'.

And with that, Hijikata dragged himself back home, prepared to go back to the ever self-destructing cycle that he had grown so used to. _Move on,_ he thought, _move on and never look back_ , knowing fully well that that was the one thing he'd never be able to do.

* * *

 **A/N:** Felt like writing a little angst. I feel like Hijikata and Okita may have been a bit overly out-of-character. But hm. I tried, I guess.


End file.
